𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 - 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

chef strange - blurb

request

word count: 800

summary: you didn't know that dr. strange could make pancakes...

warnings: none, unless if you think calling Dr. Strange homophobic as a joke is one LMAO

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The morning was quiet. Silence was the only thing coursing through your room. Footsteps making their way past the door every now and then. You laid silently, your chin propped on America's head as she was cuddled into your chest. Running your fingers lightly through her hair, detangling the knots that formed during the night. Her soft breath falling on your skin. The both of you moved into the Sanctum after the incident with Wanda. Which took a toll on both of your mentally and physical health.

And some how you ended up here. Learning how to do magic and such under Wong's teaching. He usually in the morning came to the Sanctum to bring you both to the training at the Swayambhunath Temple, as you haven't been able to use the rings yet... It was a work in progress.

Today however was different. Wong said that you have been working hard enough to earn a day off. You highly doubted that that was the actual truth as a magician's work is never done, that's what you read on wikihow when learning to do the rabbit in a hat trick after you found out you would be learning magic.

In truth you knew that Wong just needed a break himself. Having to deal with America and you on the daily can take a toll on a person. The two of you hardly ever seemed to get proper work done. Always sneaking off now and then as well as giggling throughout the training sessions. He never really could discipline you on it though. As for some reason you always got what was needed to be accomplished... for America however... anyways.

A soft sigh left your lips as she curled closer into you. Dragging your fingers lightly down her back, you listened to her calm breaths. Even and steady. That was until a loud knock was sounded followed by a voice.

"Come out before I think you died in there," Strange said, continuing to knock. America shot up, shocked awake by the noise. You groaned, rolling yourself out of bed and approaching the door. You opened it, an annoyed expression making it's appearance. "Morning, or should I say afternoon," he remarked. "Why aren't you up yet?"

"Because it's our day off," America mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She slouched herself into your side. Strange's brows furrowed.

"Don't you have a room not even three door's down." America nodded.

"Yeah, but why would I be there when my girlfriends in here?" she asked, holding onto your hand. The man's face scrunched up.

"Ew," he turned around, beckoning you both to follow him. You let out a gasp, pulling America with you.

"Strange that was kinda homophobic of you," you stated. He rolled his eyes, having heard that sentence more times then he would like to admit.

"I don't want to hear any of your gross relationship talk."

"That also sounded homophobic," America butted in. Strange turned to face you, freezing you both in your step.

"If I was homophobic would I be letting you stay here?" he questioned.

"Technically it's Wong's place since he is the Sorcerer Supreme," you pointed out. "And Wong would never kick us out, cause he's not homophobic unlike somebody-" Strange cut you off with a sound of frustration, dragging a hand down his face. He once again started making his way down the hallway. The three of you approached the kitchen, something smelt like it was previously burning.

"Well, am I really be homophobic if I made you guys breakfast," he said motioning to the plates set out. A stack of pancakes in front of them. Your eyes light up, once again pulling America along with you. She giggled lightly, taking her spot next to you. Strange moved to sit across from you both.

"I didn't know you could cook," you informed, grabbing some syrup that was set aside. He hummed.

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

"Oooo, mysterious," America whispered, passing a carton of fruit to you. You cut a slice of the pancake, holding it to your mouth before stopping yourself.

"How do I know your pancakes aren't homphobic?" you asked, pointing your fork at him accusingly. He groaned once more, placing his head in his hands. Making you and America laugh. "I'm joking," you comforted him lightly, taking a bite. "This is really good. Thanks, Strange."

"Yeah, thanks. They're a little burnt in some places but it's the thought that counts," America nodded. She slid her hand once again into yours under the counter. You took it, running your thumb across her knuckles. The two of you smiled at each other. Once again Strange groaned.

"Don't do that in my kitchen. You make me miss my love life."

"Then don't being homophobic in the kitchen!"